


Harbor

by DiNovia



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 16:25:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8674453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiNovia/pseuds/DiNovia
Summary: It's been six months since Cat left National City and Kara Danvers is lost without her.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lishesque](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lishesque/gifts).



> For Lishesque, who requested “A Kara/Cat reunion after months apart and Kara's all hesitant/unsure of Cat's affections but Cat claims her once again. Hint of dom/sub.” I hope this fits the bill. Merry Christmas! I think I more than hinted at the dom/sub. Ooops. 
> 
> Also, for those who know more about dom/sub play and its inclusion in healthy relationships, I did my best to show a respectful, safe, consensual encounter here. If I missed something or mischaracterized something, please let me know.

It was late and Kara scowled up at the burnt out lightbulb in the stairwell leading up to her loft for the fifteenth time that week, wondering when her landlord would get around to changing it. 

 _Not in this weather, that’s for sure,_ she thought as thunder rumbled outside. 

Mr. Hammond wasn’t the most accommodating man under the best of circumstances.  The rain would keep him away for the foreseeable future and Kara knew she’d end up changing it herself.  Again.

She trudged up the stairs and into the hallway, shaking off the remnants of the storm.  The dampness in the air and the dread in her bones made her skin feel like it didn’t quite fit, and she was more than just a little off kilter these days as it was.  Snapper had been pushing her hard all week and she felt woefully inadequate in the face of his blustery criticism.  Underneath that was the worry that she wasn’t getting any better, that she’d made the wrong choice.  Maybe the ocean she’d chosen to dive into was too deep for her?  It was a depressing thought.

Six minutes of Snapper Carr’s derision had been hard enough to handle; six months of it was wearing her thin in places she could never have imagined and she was no closer to showing _anyone_ what she was made of, let alone her boss.

She missed Cat.

While that feeling wasn’t new or even particularly noteworthy, lately it had been growing heavier and harder to carry.  A stone in her gut.  A weight on her shoulders.

Kara unlocked her front door and frowned, scowling at herself now.

 _On top of everything else,_ she groaned, _I’m hearing her heartbeat again._

She thought she was past that.  It had taken her weeks, before.  She’d been so attuned, so _attached_ to one particular heartbeat for so long, she couldn’t stop hearing it, couldn’t stop looking for it in the background of everything she did.  The day she realized it was gone—abruptly and without warning—Kara had gone into full panic mode, thinking something had happened to Cat, that she’d been injured or was in danger.  It had taken James an hour to calm her down, assuring her over and over that Cat was fine, that she’d left the country, that she was safe.

Alex had spent the following week talking Kara out of desperate trips far afield, of “just making sure.”

 _“Cat’s moved on and so should you,”_ she’d said, handing her another pint of Ben  & Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie, grimacing sternly.  _“Don’t be that person, Kar.”_

But moving on had been so hard with everything she and Cat had left unsaid cluttering up Kara’s empty hours like autumn leaves crunching beneath her feet.  Sometimes, when sleep was elusive, she wondered what she would do for five more minutes with Cat Grant.

Other times, Kara wondered what it would take to get Hank to wipe her mind of the CEO.  A clean slate.  A fresh start.  Because this nowhere—this state of limbo between having and not having, between yes and no—was sure to drive her mad before too long.

A white flash of lightning outside heralded another round of booming thunder and Kara tramped through her darkened apartment and into her bathroom, dropping her bag on the chair next to the bed on the way.  Morosely, she wondered if hearing Cat’s heartbeat meant Cat was back in National City or if it was just Kara’s own imagination, spurred into action by her craptastic day.  She peeled off her wet jacket and hung it on the shower rod, absently watching it drip into the tub, wondering which option she was even hoping for.  Undecided and grumbling, she did what she could with her hair, now a dark honey color from the rain, and yanked off her glasses, tossing them onto the back of her sink, unneeded now that she was home.

Back in her bedroom, she kicked off her shoes, not caring where they landed, and made her way back to the kitchen on stocking feet, planning to make herself something warm to drink while she contemplated what toppings she would order on tonight’s inevitable pizza. 

 _Or pizzas,_ she corrected, realizing she would never be able to stop at just one. 

The flash-pop of another lightning strike illuminated her living room—such as it was—and Kara froze, startled, stopping just short of yelping in wholly unheroic terror.

For there, on her couch, sat Cat Grant, stiff, straight, and stoic in a trench coat belted tightly at her waist.

\-----

From the moment Kara had opened her apartment door, bringing with her the scent of the storm, Cat Grant had not moved.

The first sight of Kara clanged, sharp and stinging, against the cold shell of studied disinterest Cat had been perfecting beneath her skin for the last six months, and she barely kept herself from gasping aloud.  When she composed herself again, she watched as Kara strode from room to room, half in darkness, slouching under obvious despair.  With hooded eyes, Cat scrutinized Kara as the young woman discarded her bag in a convenient chair and stripped off her barn coat, dripping as she disappeared into what Cat assumed was her bathroom. 

She had never seen Kara look so bedraggled before, or so bleak, and the realization hit her like a blow, freeing her from the grip of her momentary panic.  Cat used the unexpected respite to force herself to breathe.  She felt alternately as if she might fly apart at the seams or shrink into herself, narrowing and collapsing until there was nothing left of her but a speck, meaningless and easily forgotten. 

See, she hadn’t left CatCo and National City to dive.  Oh, no. 

She’d left to flee.

She’d left because she’d woken up in a cold sweat one too many mornings after promoting Kara, positive she’d lost something irreplaceable and so, so precious, something she hadn’t known she possessed until the moment it was no longer hers.

Not Kara, of course.

Kara was not now nor would she ever be a possession.  She was a force of nature, beautifully, gloriously, and completely her own person, wild and free and incomprehensibly kind, as bright and warm and steadfast as the sun.

It wasn’t Kara Cat feared she’d lost, but her trust.  Her faith in her.  Her belief.

No one trusted Cat now.  Oh, they bent over backward for her, or they adored her, or they despised her, or they vied for her attentions, or they envied her, or they ignored her out of spite.  But no one—not one—smiled at her the way Kara always had.  No one offered her anything, not even something as inconsequential as a glass of water, without the expectation of something in return.  No one saw or even seemed particularly interested in looking beyond the façade. 

The Queen of All Media reigned supreme.  Cat Grant, the woman, got lost in the shuffle.

She thought the ache in her chest would fade eventually, forgotten somewhere in the endless parade of new places, and new faces, or in the exhaustion and tediousness of keeping always on the move. 

It hadn’t.  It stalked her every minute and haunted every mile. 

Two mornings ago, Cat had awakened in yet another penthouse suite overlooking some stunning vista or another, cold despite the balmy temperatures and the white-gold sunshine outside, consumed by a need so stark and surgical, it had excised every iota of tenderness within her.  She’d felt clear and sharp, like cut crystal, and desperate, like an addict.  She booked the first flight back to National City and had flown all day and night to get here.

She would see Kara and confront her.  She would reclaim what she had lost or she would die trying.

Nothing else mattered.

But now, looking up into Kara’s stunned and hopeful eyes, falling into them like the sea, Cat found she couldn’t move an inch, couldn’t say a word.

Desire, hard and merciless, paralyzed her.

\----

 _This_ , thought Kara, relieved, understanding in a flash what Cat’s presence meant.  _Oh, yes.  This…._

All the uncertainty and second-guessing, all the wondering and wallowing and wishing—it melted out of Kara like ice under the glare of the sun, leaving her with steely clarity.  With presence of mind and unquestioning purpose.  With power.

She knew. 

It was all there in Cat’s anxious eyes, in the way her throat moved when she tried and failed to speak, in the way she sat—still and wary and completely undone.

This moment was a distillation of everything there was between them, filtered and refined to its essence, the softness and subtlety and sweetness burned away.

There would be time enough for those things later.

Now was for taking and for need.

For the giving of— _no_.

For submission, obedient and sublime.

Without a sound, Kara pulled off the shapeless beige cardigan she wore over her starched white Oxford and laid it gently over the back of the chair opposite Cat.  She smoothed her tartan skirt over her thighs and took a step forward, glancing at Cat just once before casting her gaze to the floor.

Kara knelt then, folding herself tidily at Cat’s feet, and lifted her trembling hands, palms upward, fingers curled, wrists together, offering them to Cat.

“Harbor,” she said softly, not looking up.

Cat stared, unbelieving, at Kara kneeling before her, the very picture of demure surrender.

“What?” she asked, her voice cracking, hoarse and husky.  She didn’t dare move.

“You can’t hurt me—not that way, at least—but I know you’ll insist on a safe word because you don’t trust yourself.  And no matter how much I trust you, I won’t be able to convince you of that—or that a safe word isn’t necessary—so I went ahead and picked one.”

Cat swallowed carefully, noting Kara’s confidence and her utter lack of ambiguity—about this _and_ about her alter ego.  Whatever naïveté she’d expected to find, whatever denials she’d expected to hear—they were nowhere to be found. 

“Why ‘harbor’?” she asked, needing to know the reason behind Kara’s choice of words.  “Look at me when you tell me,” she added.  Her voice was stronger now, demanding, and Kara shivered.

Kara lifted her blue eyes and gazed unblinking into the smoky jade-green of Cat’s, answering her without hesitation.

“Because you’ve always been one to me.  Because I’ve always wanted to be yours.  Because everything you are—everything you will ever be—is welcome here.”

\-----

Cat worked hard to find Kara’s limits.  Such a thing was difficult with a superhero.  Blindfolds, cords, restraints of any kind—even hair-pulling was practically useless.  How could they be reasonable limits when they only limited Cat? 

No, she had to find something truly difficult for Kara, something difficult _despite_ her Kryptonian advantages.  Three things became apparent quickly: Kara was a tactile creature who loved to touch and be touched; Kara had a hard time being still for any length of time; and Kara made the most decadent and _distracting_ sounds when experiencing intimate pleasure. 

In this, their first encounter, Cat focused on only two of the three discoveries: telling Kara she would only be allowed to touch herself or Cat as a reward for correct behavior; and ordering her to be silent, an example _of_ correct behavior.  The other order?

“Don’t come until I say you can,” she whispered into the shell of Kara’s ear, fingertips raising gooseflesh as they trailed down Kara’s back and over the swell of her muscular buttocks. 

Kara was on display, a feast for Cat’s hungry eyes.  Bare and on her belly, with a pillow underneath her to tilt her hips at the perfect angle, showing off that amazing ass to its best advantage…  On her elbows, head pulled back, legs spread…  Cat’s heart pounded in her chest as if it would crack and her mouth watered.

Whatever else was between them—and there was much to explore and discover now that Cat had opened the door—this was at the core of it: Cat claimed and Kara yielded.  Kara’s willing surrender, especially when Cat knew Kara's true strength, was the most stirring, the most scintillating aspect of their whole dynamic. 

Not _Make me yours,_ but _I am yours._

The difference between defiance and deference.  Between opposition and symbiosis.

From the beginning, they’d found themselves ensnared by each other’s gravity, locked in orbit around a well of things unsaid, of feelings unacknowledged.  Cat had tried to break that orbit by leaving.

She understood, now, how utterly she had failed.

Seeing Kara like this, knowing she had the unfailing devotion of the most powerful being in the universe, gave Cat permission to own every part of herself, even those parts beyond the understanding of others, beyond the expectations of society and convention. 

Kara’s trust in her gave Cat the ability to trust herself and she knew she would willingly spend the rest of her life in repayment of that gift.

\-----

Kara shuddered and shivered and shook, but she did not moan and she did not come. 

 _Rao_ , she wanted to.  With the fingers of Cat’s left hand gripping the back of her head, tangled in and tugging roughly at her hair, and the fingers of Cat’s right hand deep inside her, it took all of Kara’s willpower and strength to keep silent, poised on a knife’s edge, begging for blissful, ecstatic release.  She bit her lip and let Cat pull her head back once again, baring her throat to Cat’s teeth.

“Such a good girl,” said Cat, deeply impressed by Kara’s restraint, and Kara’s hips jerked in response to those words, craving Cat’s praise.  Cat smirked, not surprised by the discovery, and watched, smug, as the sheet fisted in Kara’s hands disintegrated in her grip.  “So strong, so beautiful, so brilliant,” she purred, gratified by the flood of pleasure she felt against her fingertips, buried so sweetly between Kara’s legs.  “Soon…soon now, I’ll let you come, but until then, not a sound.”  She leaned into Kara and fitted her lithe, bare body against the young woman’s side.  “A single sound, Kara, may flay me alive,” she whispered, trailing hot, wet kisses across the younger woman's shoulder.

Kara slammed her eyes shut and clamped her teeth together, trying not to scream, wanting to desperately, but just as desperate to obey.  Pleasing Cat was her only purpose, her only desire.

Cat demanded silence and silence she would have, even if it killed Kara, and Kara wondered if it might.

Nothing in twelve galaxies could compare to this—to the wonder of it, to pain and pleasure so intertwined, so immediate and overwhelming, it was all she felt.  So much of her existence was subject to constant, unremitting stimulation—even sleep, when she succumbed to it, was an exercise in the balance between awareness and release, between vigilance and inattention.

In this moment, all that existed for Kara was Cat.  Cat’s needs, Cat’s demands, Cat’s desires.

Cat’s mouth.

Cat’s fingers.

Cat’s voice in her ear, ragged and relentless.

Kara wanted to weep with the relief of it.

“Good girl, Kara,” said Cat again, and again she reveled in the effect those words had on the young woman beneath her.  Kara was a storm of need, bucking and fiercely beautiful, but silent.  She didn’t whimper; she didn’t keen.  Even when her breath caught in the back of her throat, it did so soundlessly.  Cat reeled, thinking of how much effort that act required, especially for someone as verbally primal and unrehearsed as Kara Danvers.  The depths of Kara’s commitment astonished her.

“When I say you can, I want you to come and afterward, afterward, my darling, you’re free,” she promised.  “You may touch me, fuck me, do whatever you want to me….”  Cat’s breath caught at the thought and she couldn’t keep the sound from it.  She whimpered thinking of Kara’s mouth on her, feasting, and Kara nearly came out of her skin right there.

“Oh, my love,” Cat soothed, pressing into Kara again, sinking into her glorious depths.  “This will all be over soon and I’ll be yours…yours alone.  Just a little longer now.  You can do it.  I know you can.”

Kara nodded eagerly, agreeing with Cat even as tears rolled down her cheeks. 

She would do anything, withstand _anything_ to affirm Cat’s trust in her, to prove her right once again, to give her what she wanted.

Kara’s shoulders shook with the strain of resisting orgasm and the mattress below her succumbed to the power in her hands, widening Cat’s eyes momentarily.  Kara panted and arched her back, eyes clenched shut, tears dripping off her cheeks.  She saw stars bursting behind her eyelids and forgot that meant she was holding her breath.

 _Please, please, please, please_ , she begged inside her head and she had no idea what she was begging for.

Cat knew.

It was all there, in the way Kara’s body quivered, in the desperate way her hips rocked, in the way the muscles of her jaw clamped down around the scream she was biting back, as if her life depended on it.

“You’re ready, aren’t you, Kara?” asked Cat, voice filled with tenderness and affection.  “I can feel how ready you are and you’ve been _so good_.” 

Kara almost broke on those words, so earnestly said, and Cat surrendered, releasing her with a whisper.   “Come, darling….”

And Kara came, roaring Cat’s name into the night, sobbing with joy. 

Before the last shudders of her orgasm had even begun to abate, Kara turned and reached for Cat, collapsing onto her, into her, ravenous and wanting, too long denied. 

Every touch of Kara’s fingertips on Cat’s skin was blissful benediction, every sound she made as she devoured Cat was a fervent prayer, and every stroke of her tongue was worship, soft and sweet and sacred.

It wasn’t until Cat came, moaning Kara’s name, with her fingers wound in Kara’s hair, that she realized gravity no longer held sway in their world.  Kara held her in strong arms high above the bed while she slowly kissed Cat down from her orgasmic heights, as yet unaware of their spontaneous flight.

Chuckling softly, Cat whispered, “Mind the ceiling, darling,” and Kara’s eyes popped open, startled.  She gently pulled her mouth away from its ardent, loving work.

“Oops,” she said, grinning sheepishly, and she lowered them gradually back to the bed.  Or what was left of it.  “I guess I got carried away.”  Suddenly shy and embarrassed, Kara's eyes dipped away from Cat’s, but Cat lifted Kara’s chin with sure fingers.

“Lucky me,” she said, and she leaned in for a kiss.

\-----

Later, after they'd made love, exploring each other and all the things they’d left unsaid, the space around them and their love growing infinite and inviting, Cat caressed Kara’s cheek with her fingertips, looking deeply into her eyes.

“You said something earlier,” she began, her voice low and soft.  “Something before we touched for the first time.”

“What?” asked Kara, a shadow of worry clouding her eyes.

“You said I couldn’t hurt you, but you added ‘not that way, at least.’  That suggests there’s a way I _can_ hurt you.”  Cat tucked a lock of Kara’s hair behind her ear.  “Is there?”

Kara nodded but said nothing, eyes filling with unexpected tears.

Pain gripped Cat’s heart.  “How?” she asked, her voice no more than a breath.

Kara ignored the tears pooling against the bridge of her nose and trembled in Cat’s arms.  “You can leave me again,” she said, her heart breaking in her eyes. 

At that, Cat shook her head and leaned in to press her lips to Kara’s forehead. 

“I never should have left you in the first place,” she whispered, gently wiping away Kara's tears.  She skimmed her thumb over Kara’s bottom lip and followed the touch with a light and loving kiss.  “You’re not just my harbor, Kara,” she added softly when she pulled away.  “You’re my home.”

**_fin_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Parts of this story, including the title, were inspired by the song "Harbor" by Vienna Teng
> 
> Harbor  
> by Vienna Teng
> 
> We're here where the daylight begins  
> The fog on the streetlight slowly thins  
> Water on water's the way  
> The safety of shoreline fading away
> 
> Sail your sea, meet your storm  
> All I want is to be your harbor  
> The light in me will guide you home  
> All I want is to be your harbor
> 
> Fear is the brightest of signs  
> The shape of the boundary you leave behind  
> So sing all your questions to sleep  
> The answers are out there in the drowning deep
> 
> Sail your sea, meet your storm  
> All I want is to be your harbor  
> The light in me will guide you home  
> All I want is to be your harbor
> 
> You've got a journey to make  
> There's your horizon to chase  
> So go far beyond where we stand  
> No matter the distance, I'm holding your hand
> 
> Sail your sea, meet your storm  
> All I want is to be your harbor  
> The light in me will guide you home  
> All I want is to be your harbor
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tKDXe0FP2wc


End file.
